First Date

(c) 2002 J. Sage Schreiner

 

I am not a guru. Gear-head neophyte is too generous. Utter mechanical knucklehead is closer to the mark. Therefore, starting with an ancient, problem-ridden car and trying to make it track worthy and reliable was not the decision of a sane mind. But then, I'd be driving a Toyota Corolla if I was “sane.”

 

About a year ago, due to an unfortunate incident involving an Extremely Shiny Purple Car, a bad case of the flu and poor judgment at SIR I set out to find myself a beater BMW that would work as a solid, reliable track car. A sub-goal was to acquire a car that even I, the definition of mechanical ineptitude, could work on (and, if worse came to worse, would be inexpensive to replace). I ended up making one of the most rewarding investments that I've ever made. I learned a great deal about car mechanics and driving in the process of having a ton of fun, and meeting many new people.

 

After a bit of research I focused on the E21 320i, made between the years '77 and 83. The E21 320i, while it's quite slow, is mechanically similar to the 2002 – rear  drum brakes, no ABS, no power anything, and the twenty-year old (and highly reliable) M10 engine using constant-injection fuel injectors. An added benefit is that parts are widely available because it was sold in large numbers in the US. It's an easy car to work on – there's lots of room in the engine bay and there are no electronic systems.

 

Finally, it’s a car with much lower "limits" than a modern BMW – which makes it easier to explore these limits for a novice driver at sane speeds. It had taken awhile to filter dimly through the testosterone cloud cover of my brain but I had realized that when learning to drive, high absolute limits on a car can be a disadvantage – in general, the higher the absolute limits of a car, the less tolerant it will be for driver error. Errors tend to happen at higher speed and so problems happen more quickly. In other words, the low (but predictable) limits of an older, stock E21 would be a great place to learn driving.

 

My mechanical experience with cars was limited to about two oil changes, putting gas in the tires and air in the tank, or something not far from that. When people talked about things like "headers", "cams", "u-joints", "master cylinders", "bushings", "short blocks" and "valves" I had only a vague idea what they were talking about – just a general picture of really expensive and fragile bits of metal whirring along at really high speed. I rung up our local guru, Greg Mierz, and he was kind enough to provide me with a long list of "common failures" to look for on an old E21. This included things such as rust areas, including the passenger-side floor and trunk, un-even tire wear, stumbling idle, broken shock tower mounts, loose ball joints on the control arms and so forth. He noted which items were likely to be easy to fix, and which were likely to be expensive. I set out to buy an old BMW with very little knowledge, experience or skill, trusting in luck and common sense. With the knowledge gained over the last year I can shed light on the process – although, at the time, I was pretty clueless.

 

The first 320i I looked at was in very good condition, with a few exceptions. A fair amount of work done by Strictly BMW, and I could tell – most of the systems of the car worked great and the engine ran smooth and strong. On the downside, the clutch didn't pick up until very high, leading me to believe that it was almost completely worn, although it wasn’t yet slipping. There was a steady vibration in the steering wheel beginning at about 50 mph, which could have been caused by anything from alignment problems, to a bent wheel, to a warped rotor, to problems with the front suspension. The inside of the car was in very good condition – but this wasn't high on my list of priorities. The woman was asking a fair price of $3500 – which was way above my measly $1500 budget.

 

The next 320i I looked at was almost the polar opposite. While it had the not-so-common sport package that included a 3-spoke steering wheel, BBS wheels and Recaro sport seats, nothing about it was in good condition. The inside was badly mildewed, with, presumably, the attendant rust under the carpet. The car was very difficult to start -- possibly because of a problem with the ignition switch in the steering column. It could have been easy to fix, but also was generally indicative of the car itself. The first thing I did (once it started) was let the car sit idling. After a few minutes the water temp needle began to climb rapidly, probably indicative of a busted thermostat (though, at the time, I didn't know that – but saw it as a bad sign). Once we got going the engine ran rough. When I revved it and then pushed the clutch in, unloading the engine suddenly, a cloud of blue smoke squirted out of the exhaust. That's a bad sign even to someone as mechanically dense as me. In hindsight, the engine was probably in desperate need of a complete rebuild, even though the car had less than 200k on it. It was clear the car hadn't been well taken care of. I offered the fellow $300 for the car on the premise that the seats and wheels were probably worth close to that, but he wasn't interested.

 

I looked at several more E21 320i's that fell somewhere in the middle of those two cars, but none had the combination of price and mechanical reliability that I was looking for. Ultimately, the decision would have to be fairly intuitive, because I simply didn't have the knowledge necessary to make a more rational decision. I continued to check the Seattle Times website religiously, and on a Sunday morning several weeks after I had begun looking, I found an ad for a 1984 318i with 196k miles on it. The listed price was a little above my budget – $1800 – but I called the fellow immediately and went right over. I was the first person to look at the car.

 

While being an E30 3-series, I immediately noticed that the 318i was mechanically very similar to the 320i. It's engine was almost identical, except that it uses the L-Jetronic pulsed fuel injection versus the constant fuel injection (i.e. pulsed squirts of gas vs. a constant, thin stream). It had no power anything and rear drum brakes, although all of this was set into the stiffer or more modern E30 chassis. The car had several aesthetic problems: the driver side door made nasty metallic cracking noises when opening and there were many bodywork issue – including several large dents and windshield dings. It was also clear that the car had been hit several times, both front and rear. Finally, the car had been owned by a smoker and had the resultant cigarette burns and sour smell. The current owner had owned it for 30k miles and about 2 years. He had taken good care of it and done all of the work on it himself, although it has been badly neglected earlier in its life.

 

In order to the put the car through its paces, I drove it hard for about 45 minutes. I kept the RPMs high, just as it would be on the track. I discovered almost no significant problems with the way the car drove. It felt solid, predictable and reliable. I did notice that on threshold braking (i.e. just before "skidding") the car tended to rotate to the left, slowly. It didn't PULL to the left, as it would be if there was something off about the alignment of the front suspension, or something wrong with the front brakes. Admittedly, this was very fuzzy in my head – but it seemed liked a minor issue that would be easy to fix. The shifter also felt extremely sloppy (a problem with the early 3-series cars in general). It was definitely not yet ready for the track, but I could see the potential of this car.

 

I offered the fellow $1500, cash, and he accepted. I drove home in my funky new 1984 BMW 318i. Like any glowing first date, I wondered if I'd spent too much, whether the first blush of love would last, and whether there were any hidden "issues". The future romance would prove time-consuming, but lasting; it would be inexpensive (compared to an Extremely Shiny Purple Car, anyway) and highly rewarding. After all, it's the spirit that matters, not the looks.